


to eros, in secrecy

by bacchics



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Lustful Pining, M/M, mature language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 09:42:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19867513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bacchics/pseuds/bacchics
Summary: The night had reached its peak, the courtyard filled to the brim with gilded, jeweled bodies. Colorful fabrics had mixed with frenzied laughter, creating a vibrant cacophony that sent her scurrying. The parties were always like this; she hated them.Still, her presence is demanded. And she goes, if only for certain reasons.





	to eros, in secrecy

Annabeth slips out of the light. Ducking underneath a canopied hall, she presses her body close to a pillar; one of the many arches that ran along the low wall. Here the shadows held her snug, here it was safe to judge. The night had reached its peak, the courtyard filled to the brim with gilded, jeweled bodies. Colorful fabrics had mixed with frenzied laughter, creating a vibrant cacophony that sent her scurrying. The parties were always like this; she hated them.

Still, her presence is demanded. And she goes, if only for certain reasons.

She spots them across a throng of people. Commodus and Apollo, arms snaked around each other, laurels nestled in their hair, bodies a bright red from head to toe. The work of the wine, no doubt. Together they are a gorgeous sight, but she can’t stop from focusing on the emperor. The gold cloth he donned shines brilliantly in the low light, complimenting his complexion, the dark curls, the fuchsia of his lips that had bloomed from over-kissing. His cape kisses the floor as he pulls Apollo flush against him, causing the hem of his chiton to bunch up an inch too high.

Her fingertips flex around the chalice in her hand.

“You seem rather taken,” Caligula’s voice is as sharp and cruel as the rest of him, but the words are what make her shiver. When he snuck up behind her is a mystery—the hair-raising edge of his presence is more than obvious now. She blinks to clear the cloudy thoughts from her mind, but he takes no mercy. “They are gorgeous together.”

Annabeth refuses to turn; her face is probably redder than the rose petals scattered across the floor.

“Lord Caligula,” she whispers out. “I’m not sure to what you’re referring.”

He steps even closer, breath icy against the crook of her neck, cold enough to bite. The aura gods’ radiate tended to differ. Caligula’s was a weight; a heavy, suffocating force. It presses against her, just as his words press her further into a corner, “You should listen to the way he talks about you, in the baths after we train when there’s no one else around to hear. It’s lewd, enough to make Apollo turn his head.” There’s an edge to his tone; she can’t decide whether it’s jealousy or disgust. Still, she steels herself. “I thought he was entertaining himself the first time, but now it’s obvious he’ll do anything to fuck you and your little boytoy.”

Annabeth spins on him then—a viper unleashed from it’s woven cage. Coal churns in her belly, his last words stoking the fire. It licks up her throat and she spits venom, “Don’t you  _ ever _ talk about Percy in that manner again or I swear on the  _ gods’ _ I’ll break one of your limbs.”

Shock and anger swirl about his face, but above all else, her actions only humor him. 

Nero is there too suddenly to greet him. He gives a quick chastisement disguised as a suggestion that causes Caligula to sneer and walk off. She takes a small pride in the face he had not said another word. Yet the fat, serious, unbothered one stands in front of her now and she holds his gaze, waiting for whatever miseries he’s ready to unleash.

He only looks at her, then looks past her. 

Annabeth turns, smart to her disbenefit, and catches Commodus’ gaze across the yard; the blue pierces through her like a lightning strike. It’s clear the moment that had just passed, was not a private one.

The chalice clinks as she sits it on the small wall. The silks of her dress billow out behind her in waves as she hurries from the crowd and disappears into the shadows of night.

**Author's Note:**

> All kudos and comments are received with pleasure and gratitude.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> I realize these works might appear as a series. This one is a stand-alone; an extra.


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